SIMPLE SOOTHING MUSHROOM SOUP

This soup is a brown puree resembling something small singing children would be fed in a Dickensian workhouse. Luckily, it tastes pretty good. I’m not sure where the recipe came from; I’d made it once before, maybe a year ago, and apparently deemed it good enough to keep, but then not tried it again since. So last week I decided to test it to see if I still liked it. And…yes, I do. I had been worried it would be too bland, and it was not. A, in fact (who fears blandness above all else) particularly enjoyed it. I didn’t passionately love it, but it tasted good (with nice green salad on the side), was easy to make, is different from any other recipe I have, and it’s nice to have a soup recipe on hand that doesn’t require broth. I think the only change I would have made would be to go for a little more mushroom flavor (12 ounces, maybe?) and a smidgen less potato. And I didn’t have any parsley to put on top, which would have reduced the gruel-like appearance. Anyway, if you’re a cream of mushroom soup fan, this is a way to get a similar taste without using any cream.

1 tablespoon olive oil
2 large scallions, white parts only, chopped
10 ounces firm mushrooms, such as white button, Portobello, or cremini, thinly sliced
1 pound red potatoes, peeled and diced
2 tablespoons minced fresh dill
1 teaspoon paprika
salt and pepper to taste
minced fresh parsley

1. Heat the oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Add the scallions and sauté, stirring often, until they have softened. (The recipe crazily says, “About 7 minutes,” but mine had already softened and started to turn brown [oops] after just a minute or so. Was I supposed to turn the heat down? Should I have cut bigger onion pieces?) Add the mushrooms and sauté until they soften and begin to give up their liquid. (Again, the recipe says “about 7 minutes.”)

2. When the mushrooms are softened and juicy, add the potatoes and dill to the pot and stir well. Added enough water (maybe 2 cups?) to cover the contents of the pot, stir again, and—well, here the recipe mysteriously said to “raise heat to medium,” but hadn’t the stove been on medium the whole time? There’s nowhere where it said to turn it down… Either I copied it down wrong, or this recipe author is messing with my head. Since the recipe says the soup should be “brought to a gentle simmer,” I took a chance and raised the heat to medium-high. Anyway, when the soup simmers, put the lid on the pot, reduce the heat to medium-low, and simmer until the potatoes are soft, “about 15 minutes.”

3. When the potatoes are soft, puree the soup in the blender (I had to do it in two batches) until it's thick, smooth, and creamy. Return it to the pot, turn the stove heat to low, season with salt, pepper, and paprika, sprinkle with fresh parsley, and serve. Then practice saying “Please, sir, can I have some more?” in your best British accent.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes

THE INFAMOUS BRIE PASTA

This is my favorite of all recipes, and if you know me for any length of time, chances are good that I’ll make it for you. It’s a perfect meal for entertaining, because it’s really really super easy: there are only a few ingredients, you can mix most of them together ahead of time, and only one of them has to be cooked. At the same time, because it involves Brie, it is also really really super rich and decadent, and thus is best enjoyed only with friends, for extra special occasions. The price of a pound of Brie being what it is, it’s probably better that way. Once per year is just about right (preferably in the summer, when you can find awesome tomatoes). In fact, I think the last time I made Brie pasta was a year ago, when I had L, J, E, and N over for dinner in my tiny basement apartment on Portland Ave. in St. Paul. On Tuesday night, I had A, M, and K over for dinner to watch the finale of The Amazing Race, so I figured it was time to work the Brie mojo again. I found nicely affordable Canadian (it’s almost French!) Brie at Trader Joe’s, and decent tomatoes (for this time of year) at the farmers’ market, and voila!

Do I even have to describe what this tastes like? The compatability of pasta, tomatoes, basil, garlic, and olive oil is already well established. To this you add Brie, which gets all melty, like the best kind of cream sauce, and cheesy, like the best kind of macaroni and cheese. ’Nuff said. The funny thing is that I got this recipe from a little photocopied dorm newsletter when I was in college. It was just squished in there among announcements of campus events and reminders to renew parking permits. I often wonder where the newsletter writer found it in the first place—I’ve even Googled “Tomato Basil Brie Pasta” and found some similar recipes, but one of them had red wine vinegar in it (no way), and the other called for 2 cups (!!!!) of oil (gack…can that possibly be right?), and both asked for Parmesan cheese, which is totally unnecessary when you have—did I mention?—a pound of Brie. Let’s just call it happy chance that I found this recipe, and even happier chance that I’m passing it on to you.

1 pound farfalle (bow-tie) pasta
1 pound Brie cheese
4 large, fresh, ripe tomatoes
1 large handful of fresh basil
1/3 cup olive oil
2-4 cloves garlic
salt and pepper to taste

1. Remove the rind from the Brie (I know some people like the rind, but don’t try to use it here—it will ruin the texture) and cut the cheese into small chunks (they don’t have to be perfect, since they will melt anyway, but for ease in melting, don’t make them much larger than an inch). Put these in a large glass bowl (make sure you don’t use a metallic bowl, or you will taste it).

2. Mince the garlic. Keep in mind, the garlic stays raw in this recipe, so if you want to use less than 4 cloves, go ahead (this is the only time you will ever hear me say this). If the garlic is too potent, it will overwhelm the taste of the Brie. Shred the basil and add both it and the garlic to the bowl.

3. Seed and core the tomatoes and chop them into 1-inch chunks, and add them to the bowl. Also add the oil, and salt and pepper to taste.

4. The recipe says to let the mixture marinate in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours, but this can be skipped if you’re really hungry. Sometimes I just make it and eat it right away; other times, I’ve let it marinate longer than 2 hours. On this occasion, I probably did it for about an hour. It’s good no matter what, although I think the leftovers taste even better because the flavors have had more time to blend.

5. When it's near time to eat, boil salted water for the pasta and cook it until al dente. Drain the pasta and return it to the cooking pot, then add the tomato-cheese mixture and stir gently. (The pasta makes an earthy squishing sound during this process that I enjoy immensely.) Eventually, the heat of the pasta melts the Brie into a smooth, creamy sauce. Added more salt and pepper and serve (good with a green salad on the side).

Serves: 6
Time: 30 minutes (plus optional 2-hour marinating time)

CHICKEN KEBABS

First of all, it’s really fun to type the word “kebab.” Kebabkebabkebabkebabkebabkebabkebab…your left-hand pinkie and index fingers get to do this cute little dance. OK, it’s out of my system now. This is another successful recipe from Bistro Chicken, by Mary Ellen Evans. When I started making it last night, I was somewhat worried about how it would turn out, because (a) I was afraid the marinade would be too bland, and (b) potatoes?, and (c) it was raining and we had no charcoal, so we were making the kebabs (whee!) on the George Foreman grill. But I was up for an adventure, and Mary Ellen’s description was too good to resist: “These plump portions of chicken, marinated with herbs and lemon, then grilled to perfection, will turn your own backyard into a seaside escape.” Right on!

The recipe was slightly more time-consuming than I’d expected, just because there are so many separate phases (cut the chicken and vegetables, make the marinade, marinate, boil potatoes, thread food on skewers, grill), but everything turned out deliciously. The little chicken chunks get nicely saturated with marinade so blandness isn’t an issue, the potatoes get crispy and roasty, the George Foreman handled the task admirably, and it’s exciting to eat food off of sticks. (Like the State Fair! In your kitchen!) I would definitely make this again…and a good thing, too, because I have 100 bamboo skewers to use up.

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 1 lemon), plus 1 optional lemon for garnish
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons minced garlic (about 2 cloves)
2 teaspoons fresh thyme or 3⁄4 teaspoon dried
2 teaspoons fresh oregano or 3⁄4 teaspoon dried
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1⁄4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1⁄2 pound small new potatoes or red boiling potatoes, quartered
11⁄4 to 11⁄2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 11⁄2-inch cubes
2 bell peppers (preferably each a different color), cut into 11⁄2-inch pieces

1. Combine the lemon juice, olive oil, garlic, thyme and oregano (as always, I strongly advocate fresh herbs), and salt and pepper in a small bowl.

2. Cube the chicken breasts and put the pieces in a large Ziplock bag, then add two-thirds of the marinade. Mix everything up well (I love that Mary Ellen suggests I “gently massage the marinade all over the chicken pieces” from outside the sealed bag) and put the bag in the refrigerator to marinate for 1-24 hours. (The recipe says just one hour, but I always get better results with longer marination.) Set the bowl containing the remaining marinade aside (if I'm marinating overnight, I just put the rest of the marinade in a small covered bowl in the refrigerator).

3. When ready to cook the kebabs, put a medium pot of salted water on the stove to boil for the potatoes. Meanwhile, cut up the bell peppers, put them in the bowl containing the rest of the marinade and mix them up so they're coated all over.

4. Quarter the potatoes and, when the water boils, add them to the pot. Mary Ellen says to boil them until they're just tender, “about 20 minutes.”

5. Drain the potatoes and let them cool for a little while until you can handle them without hurting yourself. Put them in the bowl with the peppers and marinade and mix everything up well.

6. Now for the fun part. Preheated the grill, get the marinated chicken out of the refrigerator, and set about threading the chicken, peppers, and potatoes onto 8 skewers.

7. Discard the marinade and put the kebabs on the grill. Cook them, turning and rearranging them periodically, until the chicken is firm and not pink in the middle and everything looks nice and browned; the official instructions (for real gas or charcoal grills) are as follows: Grill on medium-high heat, covered, on a gas grill or 4-6 inches from heat on a charcoal grill, turning every 4-5 minutes, until chicken is done, 16-20 minutes total.

8. Mary Ellen suggests cutting your second lemon into 8 wedges and then putting a wedge on the end of each skewer as a garnish, but I only had one lemon so I skipped this and went straight to the eating part. Yum. What we didn’t eat we removed from the skewers and put in a Gladware container for later.

Serves: 3-4
Time: 45 minutes, plus 1-24 hours marinating time

SPICY BROCCOLI WITH GARLIC

Yeah, I’m slow this week. I made this recipe on Sunday (!) night, as a side dish for Cheesy Stuffed Potatoes, because it’s important to have something green with your big piles of melted cheese. I’m trying to expand my repertoire of side dishes, since green salad gets a little dull after a while. The recipe is from yet another Jack Bishop (sheesh, I must be watching too much 24, I almost typed “Jack Bauer”) publication, The Complete Italian Vegetarian Cookbook. Although neither A nor I adores broccoli, we liked this treatment of it (what’s not to love when red pepper flakes and garlic are involved?). Between the strong flavors of the seasonings and the freshness of our farmers’-market broccoli, there was none of that cabbagey taste that broccoli sometimes has. My only complaint is that it uses one too many pans, but that’s a small gripe. Jack suggests pairing the broccoli with “a tomato-based pizza or tart,” egg dishes, or pasta dishes; I think you could probably even serve it over plain noodles if you wanted to (with a little olive oil and maybe some Parmesan).

1 medium bunch broccoli (about 1½ pounds)
salt
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 medium cloves garlic
½ teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes, or to taste

1. Bring several quarts of water to a boil in a large saucepan. While it's heating, trim the broccoli: separate the florets from the main stalk and cut them into largeish bite-size pieces. When the water boils, add the broccoli and some salt to the water and cook until the broccoli is crisp-tender, 4-5 minutes. Drain the broccoli and set it aside. (Jack says you can set it aside “for up to 1 hour”--what happens after that?--but I’m not sure why you’d want to do this.)

2. Heat the oil in a skillet over medium heat. While it's heating, mince the garlic. When the oil is warm, add the garlic and hot pepper flakes to it, stir, and cook for about 2 minutes. Add the broccoli and stir to coat it well with the oil. Cook everything together for 1-2 minutes, add a little salt to taste, and serve.

Serves: 4 as a side dish
Time: 20 minutes

CHICKEN SCALOPPINE WITH PARMESAN

Sometimes you just need a good, plain, easy chicken breast recipe. This one did the trick for me on Wednesday night; I’m not gaga over it, but it made a nice accompaniment for our roasted asparagus. It's kind of like chicken tenders for grownups. I like that this is the kind of thing I could usually throw together spontaneously from ingredients I keep on hand. It’s from a new cookbook I got from the library, Bistro Chicken: 100 Easy Yet Elegant Recipes With French Flair, by Mary Ellen Evans. The book doesn’t contain quite as many promising-looking recipes as I’d hoped (maybe I have to face the fact that I just don’t love chicken quite enough), but now that this one’s been well received, I’ll give more of them a try (chicken kebabs on the George Foreman may be my next experiment).

Mary Ellen says to use “the best-quality Parmesan you can afford” and “grate it fresh just before using,” but I only had my pre-shredded, mid-range Parmesan from Trader Joe’s. I know from experience that Parmesan grated freshly from the block has a better texture and flavor (they put a lot of strange substances in the pre-shredded stuff to keep it from sticking together), especially when it comes to melting, but I get so tired of having to grate Parmesan almost every day. My knuckles are always scraped and the cheese grater is always needing to be cleaned. So I go the lazy route. And if you do, I think it’s OK—my chicken turned out just fine. Still, I can see some practical as well as aesthetic advantages to using fresh-grated, because I had a hard time getting my long, rectangular, stiff bits of cheese to adhere to the chicken breasts. Next time I’ll grate my own.

Updated June 2008 to add: What was I thinking? Definitely freshly grate your Parmesan! Now that I have a Microplane (O, sweet Microplane!), I use for the Parmesan that because it creates such a fine shred, it's easier to make it adhere to the chicken.

Four 6- to 8-ounce boneless, skinless chicken breasts
5 ounces freshly grated Parmesan cheese (about 1¼ cups)
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
2 large egg whites
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1. Lay each chicken breast flat on a cutting board and cut it in half horizontally to form two thin pieces.

2. Combine cheese and flour in a shallow bowl and then stir in the chopped basil. In another shallow bowl, add the egg whites and a tablespoon of water and stir them together with a fork until “slightly foamy.”

3. Heat a tablespoon of the olive oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. When it's fully hot (I really have a hard time waiting for pans to heat up properly, so I was careful to be sure that a tiny pinch of flour sizzled and browned when I added it to the pan), quickly dip four of the chicken breast pieces, one at a time, into the egg white mixture and then into the cheese mixture, turning them around to get totally coated. Add the coated chicken to the hot skillet and cook until browned and cooked through (Mary Ellen says 2-3 minutes per side, but I think mine took a bit longer). Remove the chicken to a platter, then add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil to the skillet and repeat the process with the remaining four pieces of chicken. Sprinkle chicken with pepper and serve it.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes

STUFFED (PASTA) SHELLS

For many years of my youth, this was my favorite dish that my mom made, so learning how to make it for myself several years ago was very satisfying. There’s nothing revolutionary about the spinach-cheese-tomato combination, but the combination of flavors always reminds me of home. Plus, as I think I’ve mentioned before, it’s fun to stuff things inside other things. The recipe’s also very versatile, because after you’ve stuffed the shells, you can put them on a baking sheet and freeze them until they’re hard, pull them off the baking sheet, put them in a Ziplock bag, and keep them in the freezer for as long as you like. Then you can take out however many you want to prepare, defrost them, throw them in a baking dish with tomato sauce, bake them, and insta-dinner. Or you can just skip the freezing and bake the whole batch right away, as I did when I made them last weekend.

I secretly like stuffed shells best made with cottage cheese, which I think is how my mother usually did it, because the cottage cheese gets very creamy and melty, but A finds the idea grotesque, so I use ricotta—and it's good, maybe better, it’s just not the pure experience. This time, I did things slightly differently, because I had a 15-ounce container of ricotta and a 1-pound bag of Trader Joe’s frozen spinach. So I used a bit less cheese than usual and a lot more spinach, and better-quality spinach at that, and the result was an improvement. The stuffing turned out slightly firmer, less gooey, and nice and green and fresh-looking. I’d definitely recommend amping up the spinach if you try this recipe.

1 package large pasta shells
1 pound cottage cheese or ricotta cheese
10-16 ounces frozen spinach
1 cup grated mozzarella cheese
2 eggs
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
nutmeg, salt, and pepper to taste
canned plain tomato sauce (about one 8-ounce can per 12 pasta shells)
dried herbs, such as Italian seasoning, oregano, and fennel
salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

2. Put a large pot of salted water on the stove to boil for cooking the pasta shells. While this heats, beat the eggs in a large mixing bowl and then stir in the three cheeses, a pinch of nutmeg, and some salt and pepper. Defrost the spinach in the microwave (following the package directions) and then squeeze all the liquid out of it (by far the most annoying part of this recipe but if you don’t do it well, you’ll have runny filling). Stir the spinach into the cheese mixture.

3. When the water boils, add the pasta shells, cook until al dente, drain them, and rinse them under cold water until they're cool enough to handle. Spoon some of the filling into each of the shells and place them in a 9x12 glass baking dish.

3. Pour canned tomato sauce over the shells and generously sprinkle seasonings over the top (I use oregano, Italian seasoning, fennel seeds, and pepper--if you want to do this like my mother does it, you have to use the fennel seeds). Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake for about 20 minutes, then take off the foil and bake uncovered for about 10 more minutes.

Serves: 5-8 (depends on how many shells you put in a serving; A and I like 6, which is a fairly large portion, so we usually end up with 6 servings)
Time: 1 hour

FRENCH ONION SOUP

I made this last night, and this morning my entire apartment smells like onions. I think even the cats smell like onions. I have showered, shampooed, put on clean clothes, and driven 30 miles to work, and I can still faintly smell onions in my hair, on my breath, oozing out of my pores. None of this should deter you, however, from making this French onion soup recipe, because it’s relatively easy and quite delicious. Let us give thanks, once again, to Jack Bishop, who published this in Vegetables Every Day. We shake our fingers at him slightly for using cognac—which required visits to several liquor stores before we could find a small enough bottle for our budget (I ended up with an adorably small bottle of Hennessy containing exactly half a cup)—and for not being very clear on what to do with the bay leaves we put into the soup (more on this later), but overall we are pleased. I couldn’t eat this too often, because hey, it’s basically just a big steaming bowl of onions, even if glorified by cheesy toasts, but with a nice green salad it made a rich, yet simple, Sunday supper. Plus, you get that nice fancy-pants feeling that comes from making something at home that you are accustomed to eating only in restaurants.

Funny story about these onions: I got them at the farmers’ market, where I had remembered buying them in 1-pound bags for $1 apiece. So I got three bags and brought them home. And after I had sliced up about a bag of them, weeping copiously, I started to think, “Wow, this is a heckuva lot of onions.” Luckily, at this point I thought to check the label on the bag, which stated that it contained 2½ pounds of onions. No wonder A had complained so much about having to carry these onions around the farmers’ market, considering he had actually been lugging 7½ pounds of them. So we have a few spare onions on our hands. (Do you have onion recipes? Send them hither!) I’m just glad I didn’t try to put them all in the soup. (I was on the phone with K when I made this discovery, and she reminded me of the time when she got her terminology confused and used an entire head of garlic instead of just a clove.)

2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 pounds yellow or red onions, halved and sliced thin
1 teaspoon salt
½ cup cognac
5 cups chicken, beef, or vegetable stock (I use homemade chicken stock. Jack recommends homemade beef broth as traditional, but says not to use canned beef broth because it’s just too salty, though canned chicken or vegetable are OK. Personally, I think if there’s any way you can make some homemade broth of any kind, you should go for it, because this soup is just basically onions and broth, so the quality of the broth matters. But maybe now that I have my chicken-broth-making skillz, I’m just becoming a big fat Stock Snob.)
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
4 sprigs fresh parsley
freshly ground black pepper
6 thick slices French bread, toasted
8 ounces Gruyere cheese, shredded (about 2 cups)

1. Heat the butter and oil in a large soup pot (Jack asks for a heavy casserole or Dutch oven, but I just use my Revere Ware kettle) over medium heat. When this is warm, add the onions and cook them, stirring often, until they wilt and start to brown. (Jack said this should take about 10 minutes, but my onions must have been incredibly juicy, because they let off an incredible amount of liquid and became nice and soft and broken down, but stubbornly refused to brown for at least 20-25 minutes, until all the liquid had finally cooked away. I think this probably made them turn out even better, but it made the cooking take a lot longer than the recipe instructed. I think the pan may have been too crowded for them to brown properly.) When they look a little brown, add the teaspoon of salt, raise the heat to medium-high, and continue to cook them, stirring more often, until they're nicely browned (Jack said 15 minutes, but again, it took me a little longer). When browned bits get stuck to the bottom, scrape them off with the spoon and mix them into the onions, because browned flavor is good here.

2. Add the cognac to the onions and simmer until the liquid evaporates, about 2 minutes. Mmm, alcohol and onions. Add the stock, thyme, parsley, bay leaves, and black pepper. Here is where Jack confused me, because there was never an instruction to remove the bay leaves at the end, as is usual (who wants big leaves floating in the soup?). And he never says what to do with the thyme and parsley—chop it? Or leave it whole and then remove that, too? Because I like herbs with onions, I went ahead and minced the thyme (I also used a lot more than two sprigs—more like a couple teaspoons) and the parsley (about a tablespoon).

4. Bring the soup to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer until the flavors have blended, “about 10 minutes” (a little longer is OK, depending on how much prep you have to do for the cheesy toasts).

5a. Traditional method, requiring use of overproof bowls: Preheat your broiler, set 6 ovenproof soup bowls on a rimmed baking sheet, ladle the soup into the bowls, float a piece of toasted bread in each bowl, sprinkle 1/3 cup Gruyere over each bowl, and place the baking sheet in the oven until the cheese browns.

5b. Handy Bookcook detour method, for those who don’t have ovenproof bowls (or aren’t sure if they do): slice up the French bread (my baguette was very thin, making the resulting slices more like croutons, so I did more than 6) and put it on a baking sheet under the broiler for a minute or so on each side just to toast it, then put Gruyere on each piece of bread and broil it until melts and gets a little brown. Then just ladle the soup into bowls and float the little cheesy croutons in the soup. Or, if you're making leftover portions and don't want the croutons to get soggy, store the croutons in a plastic bag and don't add them to the leftover soup until you're ready to eat it.

Serves: 5-6 (Jack says “6 as a first course or for lunch”; we were eating it as a main course for dinner, so we got 5)
Time: 1 hour

SPAGHETTI WITH SPINACH IN GARLIC-CREAM SAUCE

Despite the luxurious-sounding title, this recipe is nothing fancy, really, something I only tend to make when I’ve got extra cream in the refrigerator to use up and spinach is one of the only fresh vegetables in season. Sure ain’t anything wrong with it, though—quick and easy as a wink, all creamy and cheesy and garlicky, with nice green spinach livening it up. I made this on Wednesday night after fighting the traffic home from work for an hour and a half, and I still had the time and energy to rearrange the entire living room after dinner. In my world, that’s a true testament to a simple and speedy recipe.

Note: If I have half-and-half in the fridge instead of cream, I substitute 1 cup half-and-half for the 1/2 cup cream and 1/2 cup milk. Same diff.

1 pound spaghetti
10 to 12 ounces fresh spinach
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 large cloves garlic, minced
1⁄2 cup heavy cream
1⁄2 cup milk
a pinch of nutmeg
3⁄4 teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat for cooking the pasta. When it boils, add the spaghetti and cook it until it's almost done.

2. If the spinach is not prewashed, wash it. Tear off and discard the stems and tear up the leaves (I've skipped this when I'm lazy or in a rush, however, and it turns out just fine). When the pasta is almost done, add the spinach to the water (with the pasta still in it). Stir the spinach into the boiling water and cook until it's wilted and the pasta is done, about 2 minutes, then drain it (and the pasta) in a colander.

3. Return the (now empty) pasta pot to the stove over medium-high heat and add the olive oil to it. Heat the oil over medium-high heat until warm, add the garlic and sauté for 1 minute, pour in the cream and milk, and then stir in the drained pasta and spinach. Sprinkle on the nutmeg, salt, and a lot of black pepper, toss everything together, and heat it for 1 minute. Serve each portion sprinkled with cheese.

Serves: 6
Time: 20-30 minutes

FETTUCCINE MARGHERITA

This is not a surprising recipe, but it combines a lot of things that go well together into a rich, flavorful whole. I’ve had it for quite a while (where’s it from? Don’t know), but don’t make it too often. Mostly when I do, it’s when I crave tomatoes but fresh ones aren’t available. I used to really hate canned tomatoes, but now I’ve made my peace with them. Especially since I can get such good ones at Trader Joe’s. Maybe the tomatoes are what made it so good this time around, or maybe it was the real wine, not cooking wine, or maybe the brown (cremini, I think?) mushrooms instead of the plain white ones, but whatever it was, this was probably my best execution of this recipe and we thoroughly enjoyed it. A nice, luxurious, comforting winter pasta that's surprisingly simple to put together.

1 pound fettuccine
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
12 ounces (4 and 1⁄2 cups) sliced mushrooms
4 garlic cloves, minced
1⁄4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
28-ounce can whole plum tomatoes, well drained and chopped
1⁄4 cup white wine
1⁄2 cup heavy cream
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1. Put a large pot of salted water on the stove to boil for the pasta.

2. Heat the olive oil and butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When this is hot, add the mushrooms and sauté until they brown and the juices begin to evaporate (the recipe says about 7 minutes).

3. When the water boils, add the pasta and cook until al dente.

4. When the mushrooms are cooked, add the garlic and red pepper to the skillet and cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the tomatoes and wine and boil for 2 minutes, stirring often. (I like my tomatoes pretty broken-down, so I try to cook them a lot longer, more like 10 minutes--or however long I can get away with before the pasta's done.) Then add the cream and salt and boil for 1 minute.

5. When the fettuccine is done, drain it and add it to the sauce, sprinkle on the Parmesan cheese, toss quickly, and serve.

Serves: 6
Time: 40 minutes

BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND CASHEW SOUP

Eh. This is, I think, the second time I’ve made this recipe, and it had been a long time since the first time, so I was doing a check to make sure I really liked it enough to make it worthy of inclusion in my recipe book. Everything seemed so good in theory. I’d spent the better part of the day—Sunday, this was—making homemade chicken stock, which should have boosted everything up a notch, flavorwise. And cashews are delicious, and squash and butter and cinnamon and brown sugar all go together very well, but—eh. A and I were underwhelmed. The flavors went together so well they sort of just became one big flavor, one big sweet flavor, and although adding more salt and pepper helped, it just wasn’t enough. The soup wasn’t unpleasant, just blah. I think I’ll yank it from my recipe book, but I felt like I should post it anyway, because (a) then if I change my mind and want it later it’ll still be floating around in cyberspace, and (b) maybe someone else will try it and like it. I think I should only be not posting recipes here if they’re so incredibly bad that I want everyone to stay away from them, and even then a disastrous cooking story is always fun to tell, so who knows. But I feel a little bad for this one and kind of want it to find a home somewhere else, because it is healthy and easy to make, but just needs a little help. Maybe someone can fix it and nurse it back to health? Meanwhile, I think I’ll go looking for a different butternut squash soup recipe.

I served this with Cheesy Bread (French bread sliced lengthwise and sprinkled with shredded Cheddar, then toasted lightly under the broiler) and a green salad, both of which I enjoyed more than the soup itself. But we were watching the premiere of 24, so that made everything better.

1 butternut squash
1⁄2 cup salted cashews
2-4 cups stock
5 dashes nutmeg
2-3 dashes cinnamon
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon butter
salt and pepper to taste

1. Trim the ends from the squash, cut the squash into quarters, scoop out the seeds, and bake or microwave it until tender. (The recipe is really this vague; after consulting a baked butternut squash recipe in one of my cookbooks--as always, thanks, Jack Bishop--I preheated the oven to 450, placed the squash quarters in a lightly oiled Pyrex baking dish, covered the dish with tin foil, and baked for maybe 45 minutes. The squash came out quite tender, all the better for pureeing.)

2. When the squash has cooled slightly, scoop out the flesh and discard the skin. Put half the squash flesh in the blender with 1-2 cups of chicken stock (just eyeball it based on the consistency you like) and half the cashews, and puree this until it's very smooth. Pour the soup out into a saucepan, then repeat with the remaining squash, 1-2 cups broth as needed, and cashews. Puree this and add it to the saucepan.

3. Season the soup with the nutmeg, cinnamon, sugar, butter, salt, and pepper and heat it on medium-high heat until it just begins to bubble, then serve.

Serves: 4-6
Time: 60-90 minutes, but most of that is squash-baking time

ZUCCHINI FRITTERS

Don’t you just love the word “fritter”? And all the crispy, golden, fried goodness it implies? As the author of this recipe, Jack Bishop, points out, however (in Vegetables Every Day), “These fritters are more like savory pancakes than conventional fritters…. The batter is pan-fried in a film of olive oil until the exterior of the fritters becomes crisp. The interior remains soft and a bit creamy.” Sounds just fine to me, Jack. And they are. Nice, green pancakes, a little eggy, a little garlicky. Not too challenging to make, either (though I did go through a lot of paper towels, between the squeezing of the water out of the zucchini and the patting the oil off the cooked fritters). Jack says they can be served as a side dish with chicken or fish, or as a light main course accompanied by salad. I served mine with North Beach Grilled Chicken (sorry, too tired to link to it), and it was good. Next time, I’ll let the oil get a little hotter and let them get a little browner, but overall, thumbs up from A and me. But how could fritters really let you down?

1 pound zucchini
1 large garlic clove, minced
3⁄4 teaspoon salt
1⁄4 teaspoon black pepper
1 large egg
1⁄2 cup all-purpose flour
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 lemon, cut into wedges, for garnish (optional)

1. Trim the ends from the zucchini and then coarsely grate them (the zucchini, not the ends) on a grater with large holes. Wrap the shredded zucchini in several layers of paper towel (or you can use a kitchen towel, which I find works nicely because it doesn't tear) and squeeze gently to get rid of excess water. Continue squeezing, using new paper towels periodically (this would be a good paper-towel commercial, because my inferior generic-brand ones got soggy and tore pretty quickly), until the zucchini seems pretty dry.

2. Place the zucchini in a large bowl and add the garlic, salt, pepper, and egg. Mix well, then stir in the flour.

3. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. When it's good and hot, fill a 1⁄4 cup measuring cup with the batter, turn the batter into the frying pan, and use the back of a spoon (or, even handier, the bottom of the measuring cup) to shape it into a 2-to-3-inch patty. Repeat until the pan is full, but not too crowded (for me, this was 4 pancakes). Saute until the fritters are nicely browned on the bottom, 2-3 minutes. Flip the fritters over and continue cooking until they're browned on the other side, another 2-3 minutes. Transfer the fritters to a plate lined with paper towels.

4. Briefly heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the skillet, then repeat the process, adding the remaining batter to make more fritters. Cook the fritters until brown on both sides, then drain them on the paper towels. Serve garnished with lemon wedges, if desired.

Serves: 2-4
Time: 30 minutes

FLEMISH BEEF AND BEER STEW

Yes, yes, it’s been (eep!) a month since I last posted a real recipe here. For some of that time, I was out of cooking commission, being wined and dined by friends and family in Minnesota. For most of the rest of that time, I was, I swear, cooking, but only repeats of recipes already posted here. At least, I’m pretty sure most of them were repeats. I need to print out my archives so I have a definitive list of what I’ve posted, and then devise some marking system (Post-Its?) in my cookbook (the black three-ring binder that holds all the recipes I’ve typed up, printed out, and placed in plastic page covers) to flag what’s been posted and what hasn’t. Then, hopefully, I can try to get around to making some of the not-yet-posted ones and writing them up for your reading and cooking pleasure. (Of course, part of the problem is that some of these are spring/summery meals, so I might not get around to it for a little while yet.) And, although I’m finally beginning to be content with my standard repertoire of recipes (I’ve collected a lot more non-pasta ones, so there’s starting to be a nice variety), I still need to keep cooking the occasional new recipe to keep this site going (and keep myself interested). Luckily, I got Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day from my parents for Christmas (Hi! Thank you!), and I’ve checked his other two books out from the library. And I’ve got two spanking new (spanking, I tell you) recipes coming your way this week, in honor of the new year.

The first, this beef stew, is from Martha Rose Schulman’s Ready When You Are, which has proven to be a font of consistently toothsome, but challenging and laborious, meals. This one is no exception. With its multi-step cooking and three-hour simmering time, it pretty much demands to be made on a Sunday afternoon, so that’s what I did. I was excited about it—I don’t cook with beef much, and it sounded so warm and dark and savory, with the beer and brown sugar and onions and all—and then, as I started to cook, I grew suspicious. It looked like it might be bland. It smelled odd, not quite appetizing (I blame the hickory-smoked bacon I had, my slight aversion to bacon in general, and maybe the vinegar, for this effect), and I was having a grumpy and frustrating day. As the cooking wore on, I convinced myself the result was going to be awful. Then, about midway through the simmering, I had to turn off the stove and drive out to pick up A from work. When we came home, out of the rain, suddenly the apartment smelled good to me. And when we ate, it was very good. Very beefy, though, which I’m not used to, and I spent a while contemplating whether it had really quite merited all that work, but in the end, I decided, good. And perfect for a winter day. A, a fan of all things meaty and gravy-covered, was extremely enthusiastic.

The recipe recommends serving this over rice or potatoes. I boiled a pound and a half or so of red potatoes, then put a few in each serving bowl and smashed them up with salt and pepper before pouring the stew over it. It was nice and hearty, though we had green salads on the side to balance out the meat-and-potatoeness.

Postscript, November 2010: I don't think I ever made this again, having found tastier and less labor-intensive ways to satisfy my occasional beef cravings (e.g., chili and goulash). So I'm consigning it to the "Not Favorites" category.

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
salt and pepper
2 pounds boneless chuck or round steak, cut into 1-inch cubes
4 ounces bacon, trimmed of some of its fat and diced
2 tablespoons butter
2 large onions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon cider vinegar<
1½ cups dark beer
1 bay leaf and a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley and fresh thyme tied in cheesecloth
potatoes or rice

1. Combine the flour, ¼ teaspoon salt, and a few grinds of pepper in a small bowl and lightly dredge the meat in it. When finished, discard the unused flour mixture and set the meat aside.

2. Heat half the bacon over medium-low heat in "a large, heavy Dutch oven or flame-proof casserole" (neither of which I have, but the average Revereware soup pot seemed to do OK) until it renders its fat, i.e., starts getting greasy. Add a tablespoon of butter to this and all the onions and cook, stirring often, until the onions are tender and light brown, about 10-15 minutes. Add the sugar and stir everything together, then remove the pot from the heat.

3. While the onions are cooking, heat the rest of the bacon over medium heat in a large, heavy nonstick skillet. When it's cooked, remove it from the skillet using a slotted spoon and transfer it to the pot with the onions.

4. To the bacon grease in the skillet, add the other tablespoon of butter. When it has foamed up and subsided, lay the meat cubes in the skillet (I had to do this in three batches, as they wouldn’t all fit at once) and brown them on all sides. Transfer the meat to the pot with the onions.

5. Pour off any remaining fat from the skillet (there wasn’t much when I did it) and discard it. Add the vinegar to the skillet to deglaze it, scraping all the caramelized meat bits from the bottom and pouring them into the soup pot. (At this juncture I had a very interesting adventure when I finished deglazing the pan, then looked over and realized I still had a third batch of meat to brown. Admittedly, I just plopped the skillet back on the stove, heated it up, and browned the meat in whatever vinegar and traces of fat remained, which worked well enough and I don’t think damaged the results much).

6. Add the beer (I used Guinness) and the herb bouquet (sadly, I didn’t have any cheesecloth, so I tied the bay leaf, parsley, and thyme together with a bit of thread, and then the bouquet disintegrated as it cooked so I ended up having to fish all the bits of it out before serving, but no one choked on any string or anything, so it wasn’t too bad a strategy) to the soup pot and bring everything to a simmer. Reduce the heat to very low, cover the pot with its lid, and simmer gently for three hours, stirring from time to time, until the meat is fork-tender and the liquid is thick.

7. Serve with steamed or mashed potatoes, or rice, and accompany with beer.

Serves: 4-5
Time: About 4 hours (but only 1 hour of that is active work on your part)

CHOCOLATE PEANUT-BUTTER BALLS

I’m not much of a baker, mostly because if I made cookies or cakes or bread regularly, then I’d be compelled to eat them all, so usually I wisely avoid even opening that door. But it is helpful to have at least a few homemade treat recipes up your sleeve, so when Christmas is coming and your office decides to have a cookie exchange, you can whip up a tasty confection and bask in some complements (as well as a buzzy-brained sugar high). It’s even better if said confection requires no actual baking, only four ingredients, and cuts into very little of your gift-wrapping, card-writing, wassail-drinking time. And, oh yes, it tastes like the best Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup you’ve ever had.

I got this recipe from my mom, who used to make these for Christmas when I was younger. For the past several Christmases, she’s been making an even better variation involving pretzels (you’ll find directions for this at the end of the recipe).

1 cup crunchy peanut butter
1 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons butter, softened
8 ounces chocolate candy coating

1. Mix together the peanut butter, powdered sugar, and butter in a large bowl (you can do this with your hands). Mine turned out a bit sticky, which, I discovered later, can be remedied by adding a little more sugar—my mom says it should have the consistency of soft Play-Dough.

2. Line a baking sheet with waxed paper (actually, I Martha-Stuartly used parchment, left over from A’s former roommate). Form the mixture into one-inch balls by rolling it between your palms, placing them on the baking sheet. Put the baking sheet in the refrigerator and chill until the peanut butter is firm.

3. Melt the candy coating in a large bowl in the microwave, according to the package instructions. Dip the peanut-butter balls into the coating (a toothpick would work best here, but I didn’t have one and used a fork instead). Place the candies back on the wax paper and chill until the chocolate is dry.

VARIATION: Make peanut-butter balls as directed, but place each one on a miniature pretzel before chilling. Once peanut butter is firm, hold each one by the pretzel and dip into the chocolate coating (so that only the peanut-butter ball is coated, not the pretzel). Chill until dry.

Makes: 2 dozen
Time: 30-40 minutes

ROASTED ASPARAGUS

This is barely a recipe—I mean, I did get it from Jack (Bishop) in Vegetables Every Day, but I think I could have figured most of it out on my own. Still, it’s a really, really great way to make asparagus. I used to steam it, which is nice and fresh-tasting and good for the spring and summer, but asparagus takes on a whole new brown and toasty dimension when roasted (and this also helps to make up for it not being in season). And it’s easy as pie. (Wait, why do we say that? Pie is not the easiest thing in the world to make.) I only made a half-recipe, since asparagus is $4 a pound right now, but I wish I’d made more. In fact, I’m going to go eat the leftovers right now!

1 ½ pounds asparagus, tough ends snapped off
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt (preferably coarse kosher or sea salt) to taste
freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

2. Place the asparagus on a large baking sheet, drizzle on the oil, toss gently to make sure each spear is thoroughly coated, and then spread the spears in a single layer over the baking sheet.

3. Roast the asparagus, shaking the pan once or twice to turn the spears, until they are lightly browned, 12-15 minutes.

4. Sprinkle with salt and (my own addition) freshly ground black pepper and serve.

Serves: 4 as a generous side dish
Time: 20 minutes

ROASTED GARLIC AND POTATO SOUP

Hooray! After having almost exhausted my favorite cookbook, Pasta e Verdura, I happened upon another one by the same author, Jack Bishop, at the library: Vegetables Every Day. I don’t know why I’d never thought of looking for other books by him before, or maybe I’d looked in Minnesota and forgotten to renew the search when I moved to L.A. A quick search of the Pasadena Public Library catalog yielded 2(!) more Bishop books, which I’ve placed on hold and am eagerly awaiting. I’m like a cooking stalker. Anyway, Vegetables Every Day seems like a useful book to have around, as it contains mainly side dishes, and I’m always looking for something besides salad to have with not-quite-complete-in-themselves main dishes like fish, chicken, and soup. The recipe that really stood out to me when I first paged through the book, however, was Roasted Garlic and Potato Soup, which sounded basically like eating a big bowl of garlic mashed potatoes. I decided to make it this week, and bought all the necessary ingredients.

But when last night rolled around, I was tired and craving pizza. Loath to disappoint Jack, however, I rose to the challenge and schlepped into the kitchen. And challenge it was. I started cooking at around 7:30, and we sat down to eat at 10:00, just as the opening credits of ER were beginning. Looking back, I’m not sure why it took quite so long. I imagine I should be able to do this a little faster in the future, when I’m better-rested and have had some practice, but it’s still an involved, multistage recipe—roast the garlic, peel the potatoes, slip the garlic cloves from their skins, boil everything, puree in the blender…. Not exactly a quick weekday meal. Still, both A and I agreed it was well worth all our efforts (mine of cooking, his of doing the immense heap of dishes I left behind). This would be an especially wonderful thing to have when you were sick (provided someone else would make it for you, that is)—pale, smooth, creamy, comforting, but with that kick of garlic you could taste even through your head cold, plus all the antioxidant/antibiotic properties garlic is supposed to have. Of course, this soup is tasty enough that I’m probably not going to wait around to get sick before having it again. I’d like to give it a try with homemade chicken stock (I’d run out, so I used Trader Joe’s free-range chicken stock—so nice that they don’t keep the chicken stock in cages, don’t you think? Hee.), which I bet would be even better.

Obviously, you need something green with this plain white soup. I went all-out and roasted some asparagus, which was perfect. A simple salad would work just fine, too.

2 large heads of garlic
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped fine
2 pounds red potatoes, peeled and diced fine
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 bay leaves
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons snipped fresh chives

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Peel off as much papery outer skin from the heads of garlic as possible without separating the cloves. Cut a ½-inch-thick slice from the top of each head, exposing the cloves. (Actually, because I am often foggy-brained by the time I get around to cooking, I cut the slice from the stem end of the first head. This of course, caused the cloves to instantly separate, since I’d cut off the part that holds them together. So, all together now, the part you want to cut off is the pointy part at the top, not the dark hairy part at the bottom. But if you are dim-witted like me, you’ll be reassured to know that I just threw the loose cloves in the pan and they roasted up just as fine as the second head, which I managed to cut correctly.) Place the garlic heads (cut side up) in a small baking dish and add just enough water to come up 1/8 inch in the dish (about ¼ cup). Drizzle a tablespoon of oil over the garlic, sprinkle with salt to taste, and cover the dish with foil. Put it in the oven to bake for 25 minutes. Remove the foil and bake about 15 minutes longer, until the garlic is quite tender and golden. Remove the dish from the oven and let the garlic cool until it's comfortable to handle. Then the fun part: gently squeeze each garlic clove out of its skin (which sounds like an annoying task, but really was satisfying to me). For they most part, they should just slide ride out. Discard the skins and put the cloves into a measuring cup--Jack helpfully informs us that you should have about ¾ cup cloves.

2. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. When the oil is warm, add the onions and sauté them until soft and golden, about 6-10 minutes. Add the roasted garlic and stir, smashing the cloves with the back of the spoon. Add the potatoes and stir until they're coated with garlic and oil.

3. Next, add the chicken stock, bay leaves, and salt and pepper. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat back to medium and let it simmer until the potatoes are very tender, about 30 minutes.

5. When the potatoes are done, remove and discard the bay leaves. Puree the soup in batches in the blender until it's nice and smooth, stir in the chives, and add more pepper.

Serves: about 6
Time: well, it took me 2½ hours somehow, but I contend I was abnormally poky. Let’s say 1½ to 2 hours (but much of this is garlic-roasting time, during which you can go and do something else).

SMOKY MARINARA SAUCE

Sometimes you just want some basic tomato sauce. You don’t want it to be boring, though, which is why there’s smoky marinara sauce. The secret ingredient is Muir Glen brand fire-roasted canned tomatoes, which hopefully are available wherever you happen to be (I know they are in Minnesota, anyway, as well as California). I got this recipe from my mom and really like it with cheese ravioli. I’d never made it for myself, however, before Tuesday night, and frankly the result didn’t taste as good as mom’s. Mine got sort of watery somehow, which is maybe because I wasn’t exactly sure what to buy when the recipe called for “crushed tomatoes.” Trader Joe’s didn’t have anything called that, so I just bought a can of tomatoes in tomato juice. I think maybe a tomato sauce or puree would have been better, at least for me, because I don’t particularly like big chunks of canned tomato. I’ll have to experiment. Despite the consistency problem, though, this tasted good and was easy to make. It made a lot of sauce, so I was able to freeze some for quick meals in the future.

Postscript, December 2009: Turns out that I rarely want basic tomato sauce, so I never really make this. It's going to the "Not Favorites" category, but using fire-roasted tomatoes is still a good trick when you want to spice things up.

1 tablespoon olive oil
3 cloves garlic, chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh basil or 2 teaspoons dried
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano or 2 teaspoons dried
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
28-ounce can Muir Glen fire-roasted tomatoes
28-ounce can crushed tomatoes (as I said, I would perhaps use canned tomato sauce or puree)

1. Heat the olive oil in a medium-large saucepan over medium heat. When the oil is warm add the garlic and herbs and saute for 1 minute.

2. Chop the fire-roasted tomatoes and add them (along with their juices) to the pan. Add the crushed tomatoes (or sauce or puree) as well, along with the balsamic vinegar and salt and pepper, and simmer everything for about 10 minutes.

Serves: The recipe says it makes 6 cups, which by my reckoning is at least 8 servings
Time: Under 30 minutes

SPAGHETTI WITH ZUCCHINI AND BASIL

I’m afraid it’s been a few weeks since I posted a recipe. For some of that time, I was preparing to travel, and then I was traveling, and then I was recovering from traveling, so I ate out a lot. But rest assured, I’ve still been cooking off and on—it’s just that the recipes were all repeats, either because they were favorites or because they were reliable and easy to make amid all the hubbub. But this week I’m back in the saddle; stay tuned for three, count ’em, three new recipes (and probably more to come in the future, since I’ve discovered three new Jack Bishop cookbooks and put them all on hold at the library). Stand back!

This recipe is an oldie—it’s the one that made me decide to like zucchini (and perhaps the first time I’d prepared zucchini, or eaten it in any noticeable quantity. The zucchini gets all tender and sweet and absorbs the flavor of the garlic, the half-and-half cuts the zucchininess a little without being too rich, and the cheese is just the right amount of sharp and salty. There’s something soft and comforting about this dish. And it’s simple, so I was able to make it on Monday night even though I was close to collapse, having flown in from D.C. the night before, gotten only four hours of sleep, worked a full day, and then gone grocery shopping before settling down to cook dinner. After six days of eating on the go, settling for whatever was available at the time, whether good (a delicious handmade tagliatelle with wild mushrooms in a light sage-cream sauce, or fresh and authentic pub fish and chips) or bad ($9 chicken fingers and fries at a basketball game, or blah pizza at a Smithsonian cafeteria), I wanted to cook for myself, dammit. And I wanted something green. This recipe had few ingredients, was forgiving enough for the occasional lapse in concentration, and was just what I was craving.

1½ pounds small or medium zucchini
1/3 cup olive oil
2 large garlic cloves, thinly sliced
salt and pepper to taste
½ cup half-and-half
1 pound spaghetti
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
handful of basil leaves, torn into small pieces

1. Trim the ends off the zucchini, quarter the zucchini lengthwise, and cut the quarters into ½-inch chunks.

2. Warm the garlic in the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. While it's heating, put a large pot of salted water on the stove over high heat for cooking the pasta.

3. When the oil is warm, add the zucchini and season generously with salt and pepper. Cook gently, stirring every so often, until the squash is soft and browned in places, about 20 minutes.

4. When the pasta water boils, add the spaghetti and cook it until al dente.

5. When the zucchini is done, add the half-and-half and cook for 10 minutes more, stirring more frequently (I usually turn the heat down to medium-low so the half-and-half doesn’t cook away). When the pasta is done, add it to the skillet, along with the cheese and basil. Toss everything well, season with salt and pepper, gorge self, pass out in food coma.

Serves: 6
Time: 40 minutes

APPLE CRISP

This is one of only two desserts I ever make. (I’m not really a desserty person; most of the time I’d rather have a piece of chocolate than a slice of cake or a cookie.) The other is caramel-chocolate-oatmeal bars, which I am only allowed to make on very special occasions because I am capable of eating the entire pan. Apple crisp is never as tempting or decadent for me, just a homey and wholesome old-fashioned kind of treat. In fact, I come to it relatively recently, having taken many years to get over my aversion to the texture of cooked fruit. I never crave it or gorge myself on apple crisp, but every now and then I make it and it’s good. If I dared to serve it with vanilla ice cream, it might become a vice.

This recipe is from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. It’s very easy. It claims you can substitute (with some adjustments) pears, peaches, blueberries, or cherries for the apples, but I’ve never tried this. If I do, I’ll let you know.

*Postscript: I later tried this recipe with home-canned peaches in place of the apples (eliminating the white sugar, since the peaches were already in a sugar syrup). It was squishy but great.

5 cups sliced, peeled apples
2 tablespoons granulated (white) sugar
½ cup regular rolled oats
½ cup packed brown sugar
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg, ginger, or cinnamon
¼ cup butter
¼ cup chopped nuts or coconut

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

2. Peel the apples, cut them into fourths, cut off the core, and slice the flesh. Put the slices in a 2-quart square Pyrex baking dish. Stir in the granulated sugar.

3. In a medium bowl, combine the oats, brown sugar, flour, and spice (I use half nutmeg, half cinnamon). Cut in the butter—which, as near as I can tell, involves putting the chunk of butter in the bowl and using a knife or fork to break the butter into little bits, mixing the bits with the dry ingredients until the mixture “resembles coarse crumbs.” (Don’t worry too much about your technique here—I’ve never been too clear on how to do this, but my apple crisp turns out just fine.) Stir in chopped nuts or coconut and sprinkle the mixture over the apples.

4. Bake the apple crisp for 30-35 minutes, until the apples are tender and the topping is browned.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes

PASTA WITH SAUSAGE AND BUTTERNUT SQUASH

Sausage and squash go together like peanut butter and jelly as far as I’m concerned, not that I’d want to make a sandwich out of them. (Well, maybe...) But pasta, yes. This one is easy, straightforward, and colorful (the basil is a nice, bright touch). I particularly recommend following it up with Apple Crisp, as I did on Sunday night. It makes a fine fall feast.

1 pound rotini or other curly pasta
1 medium butternut squash (about 1¾ pounds)
¾ pound hot Italian sausage links, casings removed (I like chicken sausage)
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1/3 cup packed fresh basil leaves, chopped
¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1. Boil a large pot of salted water for cooking the pasta.

2. While the water heats, peel the butternut squash (this will be a true test of the quality of your vegetable peeler), trim off the stem end, slice the squash in half lengthwise, and scoop out the seeds. Cut the squash flesh (there’s a great phrase for you) into ½-inch pieces and set it aside.

3. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat (use one that has a lid; you’ll need it later). Add the sausage to the skillet, breaking it apart with the back of a spoon as they cook. Cook the sausage, stirring frequently, about 7 minutes until browned. Remove it from the skillet with a slotted spoon, onto a plate lined with paper towels. The recipe here says to “discard all but 2 tablespoons of drippings from the skillet,” but yikes, I’ve never had a measurable amount of drippings left over—more like an oily coating on the pan. What kind of greasy sausages are these people using?

4. Add the squash, salt, and pepper to the drippings in the skillet, reduce the heat to medium, cover the pan with the lid, and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes, until the squash is tender.

5. When the water boils, add the pasta. Cook it until al dente. Reserve ¾ cup of pasta water before draining the pasta.

6. Add the sausage, basil, Parmesan, pasta, and pasta water to the squash in the skillet and toss everything together well. Serve it topped with a bit more Parmesan, and freshly ground black pepper.

Serves: 6
Time: 40 minutes

SPAGHETTI WITH ASPARAGUS, LEMON, AND BREADCRUMBS

I was craving a light pasta with a green vegetable; more specifically, I was craving asparagus. So I splurged and bought some, even though it’s out of season and $3.99 a pound at the grocery store. So as not to be totally extravagant, I decided to make a half-recipe so I’d only need one pound of asparagus. I’m regretting that decision a little this morning, with no nice asparagus leftovers to look forward to for lunch, but that’s how it goes in non-asparagus season.

This is a strong, simple recipe (probably from Pasta e Verdura, but I forgot to check) that brings together the tastes that go most naturally with asparagus: garlic, lemon, and parsley. It’s not hard to make, though it feels a little like you’re scrambling when you try to cook pasta, steam asparagus, and toast breadcrumbs at the same time. You can always separate these steps instead of trying to do them simultaneously (get the breadcrumbs toasted, then set them aside and start on the asparagus)—this is a forgiving recipe in which nothing needs to cook for very long. I was surprised by how quickly the food was ready last night; shockingly, we had finished eating dinner before prime time began.

2 pounds asparagus
1/3 cup fresh bread crumbs (I won’t lie; I sometimes use more)
½ cup olive oil, plus a little extra for toasting the breadcrumbs
4 medium cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup minced fresh parsley leaves
¼ cup fresh lemon juice (1-2 lemons)
1 teaspoon salt
1 pound spaghetti

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil for cooking the pasta.

2. Meanwhile, heat a dab of olive oil (maybe a teaspoon?) over medium heat in a large skillet. When the oil is warm, add the breadcrumbs and stir them well until they absorb all the oil. Toast them, shaking the pan occasionally to stir them, until they are crisp and golden brown, about 5 minutes.

3. Wash the asparagus, then snap off and discard the tough ends. Cut off (but keep) the tips, then cut the stalks in half lengthwise and slice them into 1-inch pieces. Steam about 2 minutes, until crisp-tender. Remove from heat and set aside.

4. When the pasta water boils, add the spaghetti and cook until al dente.

5. While the pasta cooks, remove the toasted breadcrumbs from the skillet and set them aside. Add the ½ cup olive oil to the skillet and put it over medium heat. When the oil is warm, add the garlic and sauté until lightly colored, about 2 minutes. Add parsley, lemon juice, and salt to the pan and cook for 30 seconds, then add the asparagus and mix well.

6. Drain the pasta and add it to the skillet, toss everything together well, and dish it into bowls. Sprinkle toasted breadcrumbs over each serving and grind on some black pepper if desired. (The recipe doesn’t ask for that, but it cuts the tartness of the lemon very nicely. The recipe doesn’t ask for Parmesan cheese, either, and it does just fine without it, but if you happen to be a cheeseophile, a small sprinkling can be nice. I do this on occasion—last night being one of the occasions, because I was feeling celebratory.)

Serves: 6
Time: 30 minutes